


Remember the Old Way

by Amilyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drugged Captives, Gen, Happy Ending, Jedi Code, Kidnapping, Mentions of sexual slavery, Misses Clause Challenge, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Series, Slavery, Space Parents, The Jedi Council Done Goofed, threatened sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilyn/pseuds/Amilyn
Summary: A year after Kanan and Hera meet, they haul a cargo that becomes more trouble than they expected.  It puts them in more danger than a simple drop should have and causes a run-in with some powerful enemies.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xenadd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenadd/gifts).



"Cleared for landing."

"Putting down," Hera said, easing off the controls.

"Hold is ready. Want me to wait for you?" The comms made Kanan's voice sound tinny, but Hera smiled.

"Always. Stronger front that way."

When she walked in Kanan was studying the viewscreen. "They've got four crates and two men," he said. "I don't like the look of them."

"You never do." They faced the door side by side. "Ready?" At his nod, she said. "Okay, Chop."

The door whooshed open and revealed two men standing just beyond the transport crates. They were cradling blaster rifles and glanced out across the dried mud flats every few seconds.

"This the cargo?" Kanan gestured.

The taller man nodded.

"What's with all the delays?"

While the taller man continued scanning the landscape, the blue-skinned one drawled, "I had to check on your reputation. These are fragile. I need them to get where they're going in one piece."

Kanan crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. "I'm sure you'll find that our customers are...always satisfied."

"Any special instructions we don't already have?" Hera asked, looking around the edges of the smallest crate.

"No. Just a data chip with the coordinates and the intel you promised. Get the crates there and drop them off." He handed over the chip and five credit bars.

Hera narrowed her eyes and tipped her chin slightly. "This is less than twenty percent of what we agreed on."

One and a half horns appeared from behind a crate to reveal a Devaronian wearing full protective gear. Blue patted him on the shoulder. "He's carryin' the rest. He'll give it to you when the job is done."

"And don't be thinking of killing me; it's in an account that will report your whereabouts if my metabolic rate drops at all." His grin spread flatly until his green lips formed a flat line over his pointy chin. He leaned toward Hera. "Hope your galley's well stocked." He patted his stomach.

"He is not coming." Kanan stepped forward.

At the same time Hera said, "We work alone."

"Non-negotiable." The man held his hand out for the chip and credits.

Hera met the boss's eyes, holding them a long moment. Firm. She nodded at the Devaronian. "You'll owe us extra for his passage."

"Agreed."

Except for the extra man, they each activated the anti-grav on a crate and loaded them in, Kanan taking the last two as they came up the ramp. He settled the crates against the bulkhead, frowning slightly, while Hera closed the ramp and repressurized.

"In-deck magnetic locks." Their passenger--watchdog?--sounded almost impressed. "Cutting edge."

"They'd better be." Hera headed for the cockpit. "I'm going to get us back in the air. Kanan, show him the ship?"

"Galley first."

"Right this way." Kanan gestured. "You didn't tell us your name."

"No. I didn't."

Kanan met her eyes as Hera turned the corner. "Be careful," she mouthed.

She'd just made the jump to hyperspace when footsteps approached behind her.

"Our guest is tremendously displeased that all we have are reconstituted foodstuffs." Kanan handed a mug over Hera's shoulder.

"Did you make him caf, too?"

"Horn-and-a-half? No. Chopper's watching him," Kanan chuckled. "I'm not sure who's going to win their stare-off."

They looked at each other as Kanan settled into the co-pilot's seat and said, in unison, "Chopper."

Hera sipped her caf and watched the stars. She had long thought the novelty would wear off, but it hadn't yet.

Kanan sighed. "Which watch do you prefer? We're going to have to take shifts with Chopper watching...him."

"I'll stay up for the first one. I want to look over the data chip they gave us."

"How do you think they have such good intel on the Imps?"

Hera frowned. "I want to say it's just smart for a larger smuggling operation, but if they're so large, or so smart, then they wouldn't be employing us."

"Yeah. I've got a bad feeling about it too."

"Kanan."

He looked at her.

"You...had a look earlier. Like something about that cargo wasn't right."

He looked away, and, for a moment, every muscle seemed poised on the edge, ready, almost ready to say something. Then he shook his head and stood. "It's these guys. I'm not sure I trust working with them."

She rolled her eyes. "When do we ever trust who we're working with?"

"True. But...there's something more about this run. Something wrong." His hand brushed her shoulder. "Be careful. See you in a few hours."

Hera stared after him, then narrowed her eyes. He'd changed the subject again, but it wasn't worth pressing. Yet.

The door on Kanan's quarters clicked shut. Turning, she patched a transmission to Chopper, who confirmed that their passenger was asleep.

She adjusted the sensors, tuned the receivers, and waited. When the light flashed on her console, she plugged in the data chip and pressed transmit.

Instructions flashed on her screen briefly before it went dark. She logged it with Chopper, then leaned back to look at the stars.

It wasn't like she could claim the high ground about not keeping secrets on the _Ghost_.

***

Kanan jerked awake to the chime he'd set. Rubbing a hand over his face, he tried to dismiss the images of his dreams, but dread weighed at his chest and settled in his belly. Telling Hera this didn't feel right had been a tremendous understatement.

She was reading a datapad when he arrived.

"Any news?"

"There is a quiet rumor that slavers have been seen in this quadrant, so I've turned the proximity sensors to high."

The dread vibrated deep inside him. "Hera. Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"I think we need to scan our cargo."

"You know that's strictly against the 'no questions asked' part of this work, right?"

Kanan nodded, certain even in the face of what he thought of as her "master-voice."

"We might never get work again."

"Well, at least we're both multi-talented, huh?"

Hera just stared at him.

He leaned toward her. "I know it's asking a lot. But something's wrong. Something's...coming."

"All right. Like I said, I trust you." Hera crossed her arms. "But you're going to have to get ready to tell me why these feelings you get are so useful. I'm not fond of secrets on my ship."

"Why don't you do the scans, and I'll start my shift?"

"We're still going to talk, but I agree this situation is more pressing." She picked up her scanner and strode out.

She wouldn't forget. Hera never failed to return to a conversation or topic that was important to her. After twelve months, she'd used almost every skill he'd ever picked up to serve their jobs, and he'd learned a dozen new skills to make other jobs work out. It kept him on his toes, but it certainly told him that he shouldn't have passed the resistance-to-torture protocols back at the Temple; she knew more about Kanan's work history and abilities than he'd let on to any employer.

The comms clicked.

"Kanan," Hera's voice was shaky, "I think you'd better get down here. I'll put Chop on alert."

Hera never sounded like that. Kanan was out of his seat and to the hold in what had to be record time.

Eyes wide, shoulders drawn up, she handed him the scan. He glanced at it, and his stomach flipped. Nothing rattled Hera.

He needed to know more than the scan revealed, needed to clear his mind. He'd let too much clutter accumulate.

He pulled inside himself, then opened his mind, his mind's eyes, his mind's ears. He felt the weight in his torso and followed its signature. The origin was outside of him. It was connected to that twinge of unease he'd felt locking the crates into place when they first brought them on board.

He followed the thread of the twinge, and it led outside himself until it split into four strands that spiraled back onto themselves in a row, vibrating with fear, hopelessness, loneliness, and that dread.

He touched each spiral, reaching out, offering. Hope. A promise. Then he withdrew into himself.

"Kanan! Kanan Jarrus, where did you--"

"I'm here, Hera." He brought his hands up to cup her elbows as she shook him. "I'm right here."

"Not for a minute you weren't."

"But I am now."

Hera glared at him but took his elbow. "We need to talk."

Kanan didn't need the Force to feel anger rolling off her in waves, so he let her haul him into the cockpit.

She held up the scanner. "These readings indicate that there are sentients in those cargo crates."

"I know."

Hera's eyes narrowed, and Kanan closed his mouth. "If this is right, two are Twi'lek, one is Togruta, and one is human. All female."

Kanan frowned and shrugged slightly. "We need to figure out if they are being smuggled out or in, and if it's for treatment, their safety, or...what?"

Hera's mouth had actually fallen open, then she tilted her head, giving him the same look that, from Master Billaba, indicated he was being found mentally deficient. "Kanan, that Devaronian and his pals are trafficking sentients."

"We need to make sure first that they're not helping--and getting us to help--sneak these people into someplace." The words felt foolish as they fell, and his tongue stuck to his teeth. That dread he felt, it was directed at what was to come, not at something they were fleeing.

"You're kidding, right? You're no di'kut. You know how Twi'lek women are treated, how poor humans are treated. You've seen dancing girls. You've seen people in literal and metaphorical chains. These women are being sold, and don't you try to pretend it's for anything other than sex."

Kanan felt ill. History classes at the temple had talked about the ancient practice of slavery, ended by the Republic. Diplomacy instruction had included the information that some outer rim planets had systems of indentured servitude that were nearly the same as slavery. Some sentients were pressed into work, as laborers or servants, but only in the remotest locations.

That's what he'd been taught in the old days. Maybe in the older days that had been how the Republic was. He'd seen indications that reality was different, but had looked past the signs, wanting to think it was an anomaly, unwilling to give up that additional loss, also gone with the Republic.

"Kanan, you've seen how men--especially human men--look at me."

"I have. Almost punched that guy on Felucia who tried to kiss you."

"Fortunately, I tripped him so he fell into that muddy gutter before you could."

"Certainly attracted less attention than my way," he conceded. "There's not as much satisfaction in it, though."

"I'm asked on almost every planet why I'm wearing so many clothes, if I know how to dance, if I want to have a 'good time' with someone." She looked almost sickly pale, and her gaze went past him. "The only 'satisfaction' is flying away in a ship I own, knowing I control my own life."

Kanan swallowed hard. He'd seen the looks, but he'd missed the frequency of the comments. He hadn't listened to the Force and had allowed himself to believe that the people who noticed Hera did so for the same reasons he did: she was self-possessed, talented, smart, beautiful, and the best pilot he'd ever flown with.

"I know, of course. I've known for a long time." She spoke quietly, but a spot in her jawline pulsed, and her words were clipped and hard. "But I've never seen it." She swallowed. "I've never seen someone who actually held another being as their… _property_."

Kanan looked back at Hera, who was no longer as pale. Her color was rising, and she set her chin.

 _Good_ , he thought. _She's going to need that._

"We've got to lock our passenger down before he realizes we know." The Force was still humming through him, but the strands twanged a discordant warning. Even as long as it had been since he'd listened, he knew it mandated danger and urgency. "We have to make a plan, and fast. Even drugged, those women are afraid."

She put her hands on her hips. "We're going to finish the talk where you tell me how you know that."

"Yes, we are. But there's no time right now. I promise, Hera, soon. First--" Kanan activated his comlink. "Chopper? I need you to lock down Horns."

_"Blub-blub-oop-oop. Bloop?"_

Kanan smiled. "However you want, Chop. Have fun."

***

"The first question is whether the women are safe here and whether we should open the crates." Hera took the scanner back, needing to make a plan so she wouldn't feel like she needed to claw her way out of her skin. "This indicates reduced vital signs, but also the type of machinery that indicates life support systems. I suspect they're heavily drugged and wearing monitors and oxygen masks, and that there's a time limit on how long the support will last."

"All of that would explain sending Horns along. If we take too long, he can deal with it, if we get suspicious, he can deal with us, and if--"

Their eyes met, and they continued in unison, "Oh, no." They ran for the common room.

The Devaronian was wrapped in a metal cable. Chopper blurped indignantly, squawking in delight each time his electric probe caused a howl. One pincer held a darkening finger, and Chopper had trapped the Devaronian against the wall while Chopper rammed his knees over and over.

Horns was reaching for his pocket with his free hand, and Chopper scolded loudly, stabbing harder until Kanan grabbed his hand and slammed the wrist into the wall. He pulled a slim transmitter out of the pocket and tossed it to Hera.

She looked it over closely. "I thought he might have one of these. It's the kill switch to deny us payment or report the cargo crates lost or compromised. Here, Chop. See if you can get us paid and scrub our presence from their documents."

"You're not winning this one, creep." Kanan spun him around, secured his hands behind him, and dragged the Devaronian back to the cargo bay. Kanan yanked him to the floor, cuffed his hands behind a pole, cuffed his ankles, and magnetized the whole rig.

Chopper rolled into one leg and stabbed the electric probe a couple more times. "Blrp-bo-bo-bo-bo-bp." He stabbed the leg one more time then spun his head around, cackling.

Kanan shook his head. "Sometimes I worry about that droid."

" _You_ worry about him?" the Devaronian groaned.

Hera's belly burned hot. Hands on her hips, she demanded, "We need to know where these women are being taken."

"Oh, do you want to join them, beautiful?"

"You will keep your mouth _shut_ unless you're answering a question," Kanan snapped.

He smiled, but stayed quiet.

Hera had kept from rolling her eyes at Kanan's outburst but narrowed them now at the Devaronian's smug face. "Are the coordinates we have the final stop for these women?"

He shrugged. "Beats me. I get my orders, same as you. I do the job, then I get paid."

"Do you know who is profiting from this transaction?" Kanan was keeping it together, and Hera figured the threat in his voice couldn't hurt their interrogation.

The Devaronian shrugged again. "Hutts, I assumed. Seems to be their type of operation."

Hera kept her own voice even and dispassionate. "And how many beings are supposed to meet you at the next way-point?"

"Never asked."

"Useful, isn't he?" Kanan said.

"Brrr-bup-bloop! Buh-buh-buh-bah-brrrp!"

"Chopper, are you sure?" Kanan demanded.

Hera was already halfway to the cockpit. _Of course he's sure, now get to the weapons!_

"Blurp-buh-duh-brip!"

Kanan's steps pounded toward the gun turret.

Hera grabbed the controls and assessed the scene. "Kanan, incoming!"

"Locking on now."

A ship exploded and bolts narrowly missed two more. Their warnings overlapped in a tangle of voices.

"I see at least twelve fighters including four Y-wings flanking an--"

"Is that a Zygerrian slave ship?"

"--Aurore-class freighter. Yes. Usually flown by the Zygerrians."

"Horns must have gotten a notice sent out before we shut down his transmitter."

Two Y-wings shattered under laser fire, and Hera spun the _Ghost_ in a barrel-roll around the Zygerrian slave ship while Kanan strafed it.

The _Ghost_ shook as it took fire.

"I'm about to put two more in your path." Hera activated inertial dampeners so the fighters sped past them, and Kanan blasted them immediately. "Pretty good shooting up there," she called.

"Um, Hera?"

Hera dodged another fighter, used the nose cannons to strafe the side of the slave ship and take out the last Y-wing, then arced wide to start a new approach.

"Hera?"

"What?"

"You need to look up."

"Up? Chopper, proximity report."

"Bluh-urp-bloop. Wa-wa-wa-wuh-blrp."

"A Trade Federation Cruiser?"

"That's what I thought I saw up here. Hera, what's the plan?"

"Now we run." Hera leaned into the controls and buzzed the surface of the cruiser. She spun around its tail, stalling while plotting a jump to hyperspace.

Then another squadron of fighters appeared, a wild mix of ages and styles, but definitely in formation.

"Who are we even fighting?" Kanan called.

"I wish I knew. Just...hold on."

"Bluh-oop-erp!"

"Did he say tractor beam?"

The _Ghost_ jerked. "He said tractor beam," Hera replied grimly. The backs of her arms tingled and her toes went cold. This could get very bad, very fast. "Chopper, send out for reinforcements," she said.

"Broop."

Hera headed for the weapons lockers. She had strapped on a blaster by the time Kanan joined her. She tossed him a blaster rifle and a blaster in rapid succession, then picked up her own rifle.

For the second time in as many days, she and Kanan stood shoulder to shoulder in the cargo hold, waiting to greet the unknown.

"You're committing suicide!" the Devaronian growled behind them. "Going out there armed...you'll have no chance. They're just going to take the woman and kill you. You need me to make a deal to save yourself!" He leaned toward Kanan, "Or you could write off the woman and make a deal for both of us. I have good contacts."

Hera glanced up from priming her weapons. "I thought you said you didn't know who we were dealing with."

He harrumphed. "It's not like the two of you was quiet during that firefight. Thanks for flinging me around, by the way. My head's ringing."

"Consider it commentary on your negotiation tactics. Anyway, maybe the music will do you good," Hera pulled a condescendingly fake smile.

The Devaronian's lip curled, but he grumbled, "I'm not supposed to meet anyone on this end. They must have known somehow and intercepted you."

Kanan turned. "You just said they'd take Hera and enslave her. Then you offered to help me betray her. Then you said they'd kill you and kill me. We're trapped on their ship. Do you have any _helpful_ suggestions?"

"Yes! You need to negotiate! To buy time! If you're armed--"

"Kanan, ignore him. I've got a plan. You're just not going to like it."

Kanan narrowed his eyes at her, and she took a deep breath to explain.

***

Kanan secured Horns to a waste pipe in the access hatch. They barely fit, but Horns wasn't making a sound; he was too terrified of being captured. Kanan was only silent because Hera had made him promise on anything he held holy. He'd thought instantly of the Force, but wasn't sure if he still thought it was spiritual, let alone benevolent.

There was stomping and banging as one part of the security force searched through the _Ghost_. Metal creaked and banged, a few items crashed against walls. Kanan drew into himself, belatedly realizing that he'd pulled Horns into his "nothing to see here" space. It had been a year since he'd drawn on the Force in that way, but for eight years, it had been his default approach to the world.

He knew from half of the team's shouted orders and the hum of the hoverdolly that the crates had been unloaded, and the search crew soon stomped down the ramp, following.

Under the Force-driven calm was a flutter in Kanan's belly. Instead of the usual warmth that suffused him in light meditation, cold flowed through his veins. He had done as Hera asked, had listened as they made demands, as she insisted this was her ship to fly alone, as she mouthed off to and baited them, dismissively saying she'd spaced the agent she was supposed to bring along. He had held himself taut as they hit her and she grunted, and as her knees hit the deck. He'd been still as she was dragged, stumbling and off-balance, off the ship.

The ship was empty again and he lowered his barriers and reached outward. There was a guard, yes, but not at the ramp entrance, just in the landing bay.

He had done as he promised.

He eased the door open, holding up a hand in front of Horns while he scanned the cargo bay.

"Do. Not. Move."

Horns shrugged, moving the fingers on his bound hands.

"Checking first," he breathed, closing the hatch before a nod from Horns.

He moved, almost gliding, to his cabin. Slipping silently along was another skill he'd forgotten he once used as simply as breathing. He inhaled, then, before he could change his mind, reached for the compartment under his bunk. In moments he was back, whispering, "All clear," and reaching to cut Horns loose.

"What do you think I am? Stupid or crazy?" Horns hissed.

Kanan narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

"Why would you even want me along? You can't trust me."

"That's true enough," Kanan said. "But I could use the backup."

Horns grabbed the door with a foot and pulled the door toward him. "I'm not letting them know I'm here. I'd get myself killed!"

"Suit yourself," Kanan growled. It would be easier to sneak in without company anyway. That chill still filled him, as if he were shivering. Hera was in there.

He'd done what he'd promised, now it was time to do what he’d planned.

He pulled out his comlink, "Chopper, they're off the ship, but stay out of sight in case they come back. Is Hera's tracker live?"

" _Wawa bzt."_

"Patch it to my comlink, and keep me updated."

" _Blrrrp!"_

"I'll bring her back, Chop." Kanan tucked the tracker into his chest pocket, unholstered his blaster, and felt out into the hangar. Only the one guard, still. Monitoring the guard's energy, Kanan kept his masking up and slipped out of the hangar. It was easier to fall back into this pattern than he'd have expected.

He heard guards ahead and stepped into a recessed entry till they passed, tamping down the desire to move. The icy warning in his veins was beginning to vibrate. There was an angry heat tingeing it now, alongside a sharpness that spoke of pain.

This ship was filled with slavers, slavers who had Hera, and he felt pain. He moved faster as the tracker indicated he was getting nearer.

Rounding a corner, he nearly walked into an entire squad of guards. Long-disused training kicked in and he kicked one in the head, knocking him into the guard behind him. The second guard's blaster went off, killing a third guard as Kanan spun and bashed another in the head with the butt of his own blaster.

One of the guards slammed him into the wall, pinning his head with one forearm and his blaster hand with another.

A comlink clicked open and a guard said, "Commander, I think we have an--"

Kanan let the Force flow through him and _pushed_ , flinging the comlink out of the man's reach. It shattered against the wall. He dropped to the floor and came back up, reaching out a hand and flinging the remaining four guards head first into the bulkheads.

His entire being vibrated with the Force. He wasn't used to the overpowering sense of connectedness and he panted. Lessons as old as this feeling echoed in his head.

_Control the Force does not. Control the Jedi has. Over his actions. Over his emotions. Over his choices. Truth the Force tells. Listen a Jedi does, then his actions from a place of wisdom he chooses._

He breathed, holding onto a wall for a moment before opening his own comlink.

"Chopper, you need to move faster on getting us a way out of here; I think we're about to be noticed," he whispered into his comlink.

_"Buh-buh-buh-wrrrp!"_

"I know! You can scold me later. Just do it! Hera's close."

He remembered to pause and look around the corner first this time. New plan. He walked toward the two men in the hall, reaching out and saying, "You know me and I'm supposed to be here."

"Good to see you," one said, while the other nodded.

"That new acquisition," Kanan said, focusing on the men. "Where would the commander take her first?"

"Oh, that one was a real beauty, and feisty!"

Kanan breathed, letting his question, not his fury, flow through the Force.

"Where?" he growled.

"Wait...who are you? Why--"

"I'm supposed to be here." Kanan pushed his sense of self into the Force. "The commander wanted me to bring him something."

The other man said, almost mechanically. "Should be section 3, um, K64-F."

"Right. We'll all go along our way." Kanan removed his focus from them, returning it to making himself innocuous. They went along their way down the corridor.

 _Wasn't sure I could still do that._ He blew out a breath. The iciness was now a prickle instead, mostly warm and so active. It hurt. His skin twitched like a bantha's in the heat.

Kanan checked the next hallway.

"Chop, are you into the ship? I need the door to K-64-F to open on my command." At Chopper's affirmative, he took a deep breath, centering. He felt for the Force, for the calm of detachment. An ancient prayer echoed in his head for the first time since he was but a youngling. _I am one with the Force. The Force is with me._

Calm did not come, and he could not find the clarity of vision that would guide him.

He wasn't ready. Whatever he might find behind that door, it could not be good. Slave processing was all about stripping away self-determination, and that was the driving force in Hera's every cell.

It was time. Now. She would not be a moment longer in a chamber with a Zygerrian.

Kanan's mouth was so dry he couldn't swallow, and he palmed the door open.

For a moment he couldn't look, then that voice sounded, its ironic lilt almost amused, and Kanan knew no one else would have detected the tiny quaver in her voice.

"Took you long enough." She looked up then, testing the makeshift tether she had used to secure the Zygerrian to the wall railing. One of his ears was at an awkward angle, and his face was swollen, one eye invisible, and blood dripping from his mouth.

Kanan smiled. "I'm here to rescue you."

Her laugh was hearty and entirely hers, and Kanan flushed with relief.

She picked up her goggles, adjusted her cap back over her ear cones, and put the goggles over it.

"That's a nasty bruise," Kanan said, one finger touching her cheek. She flinched. He'd overstepped, and he pulled back quickly. She was more disheveled than he'd realized at first, relieved glance that said she was alive and in charge.

"I'm fine," she assured him, adjusting her sleeves. She peered out of the door, ""Come on, let's get out of here. You and Chopper got this all set up?"

"Yeah. Your plan is a total go."

Hera's wide smile lit up her eyes like it always did, and Kanan struggled to swallow. Hera reached for the blaster she wasn't wearing and frowned. His mouth went even more dry and he silently handed her his.

She frowned. "You're going to need this."

"Um, no, I'm not."

She was looking him up and down. "What are you going to use?"

He shifted from foot to foot, then stopped abruptly, palming the door closed again. He reached into his satchel and retrieved the cylinder and its attachment. "Remember how we needed to talk?" He twisted the pieces together. "I'm going to use this." His lightsaber hummed to life, and the blue glowed off of Hera's skin.

She smiled. "I think that's an excellent plan." Her voice was musical.

Kanan blinked. "Don't we need...I thought...should I explain?"

Her hands went to her hips and one eyebrow raised with the corner of her mouth. "I was just waiting for you to fess up. I knew you'd tell me when it was necessary. I just thought that, after a year, it was necessary!"

Kanan frowned, forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Then...you know?"

Hera scoffed. "Of course I knew." She patted his cheek. "You're exactly who you are, all the time."

"So," he choked, "we...we're good?

"We're good. Especially if you know how to use...that well enough to get us out of here."

He nodded. They headed out the door, Kanan leading.

***

Hera shook off the lingering tremors. Zygerrians had long been specters in her mind. Even running, she took a cleansing breath. Having met them, they were repulsive, but, ultimately, mere scavengers.

"Kanan, we need to get the women. And any others they have."

"Already working on it."

They slipped along the corridor, listening and watching for personnel.

A klaxon sounded.

"All personnel. Intruders have been spotted in Sector 3. Be on the lookout. Human male, armed. I repeat. Intruders. Sector 3. Guards, report to Sector 3."

Kanan looked back at her wryly.

"They must have found the guards I left in a pile."

Hera rolled her eyes. "Subtle, Kanan." She tightened her grip on Kanan's blaster, wishing for her usual one, then pushing that aside. It was time to focus. "Let's move."

Kanan ran slightly ahead, deflecting laser bolts with his lightsaber while Hera kept an eye on their backs and watched with appreciation. She'd never seen a Jedi in action, never met any of the Jedi who'd flown over Ryloth during the Clone Wars.

The tales from the tunnels had been about lightsabers, glowing in the dark to pierce through the evils from above and outside. She'd known Kanan was Force-sensitive, but could only hope he had a Jedi's weapon.

Kanan spoke into his comlink. "Chopper, we're coming out hot. Where are the rest of the slaves being kept?"

"Wa-wa-wa-woop. Blurrp-buh-buh-bah-bzzt."

"Good. That's on our way. Get ready to have the ramp down and make sure the ship is ready."

Hera sprinted down the labeled corridor. "Section H, door 42. Found it," she called. "Chop, can you unlock this?"

Kanan smiled. "Allow me." His lightsaber hummed to life and he made quick work of the lock and the door seal.

She'd played it cool, but a deep well of hope had blossomed seeing that blue blade. Hera stared at the molten door mechanism and felt a old but familiar child's belief like there was a chance they could make a difference. If there were still Jedi--even one--just perhaps that childhood faith that they could win...it just might be realized.

"Come with us if you want to be free," Kanan said.

A push from two of the larger captives got the door open.

"We have a ship. Follow me." Hera gestured, then ran toward the _Ghost_.

"Go ahead and get her ready to fly!" Kanan called.

Hera ran, hearing footsteps of freed captives and Kanan's smooth voice directing them to follow her. "Chopper, you'd better have the door controls and the tractor beam taken care of," she shouted into her comlink.

"Brr-zrp-buh!"

"I'm not insulting you!"

She ran up the ramp, taking the arm of an older woman. "Direct them to sit. First in, farthest in. Get ready for liftoff."

Moments later she was in her cockpit. She exhaled in relief and pushed aside the tremors and the memory of fleetingly wondering if she'd ever command again. She switched controls to the ready and monitored the viewscreen to the hangar. Kanan ran in with a child on each hip, and then she heard Kanan's voice, tinny and beautiful on the comms.

"We're all in. Take her up!"

Chopper triggered the hangar door and Hera flew out, calculating hyperdrive in seconds and making the jump before the Zygerrians could route around Chopper's sabotage of their systems.

"Chop, how'd you get the system to cooperate?"

"Buh-buh-buh-wuh. Blurrrp-zup."

Kanan's voice behind her was incredulous. "Did he just say he bullied the ship's computer into thinking he was its daddy?"

Hera nodded, laughing.

Mirth in the letdown was contagious, and Kanan sank into the co-pilot's seat, also laughing. She laughed till she was shaking and gasping for air, all the shakiness of the near-miss overwhelming her. The fit finally tapered off to giggles, and she wiped her eyes, taking deep, measured breaths.

They sat, staring at the streaked stars of hyperspace, just breathing.

They sat like that for a long while.

"Where are we headed?"

Hera pointed to the coordinates. "I'm taking them to Garel. It's in the Outer Rim. They're unlikely to be noticed by the Empire or found by the Zygerrians."

Kanan nodded. "What are we going to do about the Zygerrians?"

"Well, I pulled my tracker out of my boot and left it on their ship." She smiled. "Chopper reprogrammed it so it's broadcasting their cargo manifold from the past year. I know the Empire enslaves beings all over the galaxy, especially non-humans." Her jaw tightened. "They don't want competition, though, and these Zygerrians were in private business." Her smile tightened, and she licked a swollen spot on her lip. "The Empire doesn't tolerate that, not so close to the Core Worlds, so I'm sure they'll be dealt with."

She sent Kanan to explain the plan to their passengers, most of whom were still dazed. While he was with them, she commed her contact and transferred the funds--plus a little extra from the slavers' coffers--to a masked account used by the Rebellion. She asked if some of those funds could help to relocate the beings now refugees, on her ship, and asked about resources on Garel the Alliance could offer the freed beings as they readjusted.

Whey they dropped out of hyperspace, a voice guided them to a spaceport. A tall Togruta greeted them.

"I am Huuti Kaas."

Kanan instinctively bowed his head, and Huuti reciprocated.

The freed slaves were standing in clumps, some of the smaller ones clinging to the hands or arms of taller beings. The four who had been in the crates huddled near one another, having been abducted from the same region.

Kanan had reassured them personally before landing that they were to be kept safe from being abducted again, and the human kept a close eye on Kanan for her cues.

"What will happen to them?" Hera asked.

"There is a movement here--we are many--who fight for freedom from slavery," Kaas said. "They may join us if they wish. If they do not, we will reunite them with family if possible, and, if not possible, help them relocate onto distant worlds. They will be as safe as anyone can be in this Empire."

There were courteous farewells, promises of contact as needed, and Kanan and Hera headed back onto the ship.

They were ready to close the ramp when there was a banging sound. Kanan frowned at Hera then jerked open the access hatch. Horns was sagging against a pole, coughing.

"Have you been there all this time?" Hera demanded. Then she covered her nose, "What is that smell?"

Horns smiled awkwardly, holding up his bound hands.

Kanan released him.

Hera's lip curled. "You will clean this up, then we will let you off."

"Here?" Horns demanded. "What will I do on this backwater planet?"

"That's not our concern," Hera said.

"I'll make sure he does the job well." Kanan smiled as Hera headed to tidy up after their guests.

Hera finished the entire sitting area and cargo bay before Horns was done, but he finally stood by them, shoulders slumped.

"It's goodbye, then." Hera gestured to the door. "I can't say it's been fun."

"You could have given me over to enemies any number of times," he said. "I am in your debt. I have many connections in various corners of the Empire where little is noticed. If you are in this area, I hope we are able to do more...equitable business."

Kanan crossed his arms. "And how is it that we'll find you?"

He offered a sweeping bow. "Cikatro Vizago, at your service."

***

Hera turned for the cockpit. Work. She needed to get back to work.

Behind her, Kanan's voice was soft. "Hera?"

She stopped, but didn't turn.

"I owe you an explanation."

"You do."

"I've owed it to you for a long time."

"You have."

"Will you come with me? I have something to show you."

She turned, not sure she really wanted to spend time with another being, especially a male, right now.

He stood, one hand outstretched, but his whole body was relaxed, and his eyes were soft as well, waiting, accepting.

"Kanan, would you mind if it waited till tomorrow? It's been a long day." She ached all over, and there were many spots she hadn't realized were hurt that she was just noticing.

He nodded. "Of course. You want first shift again?"

"No. You go on to sleep, though. I'm just going to check over the ship, get everything situated, and leave that to Chopper."

"Night, Hera."

"Night."

Her pilot's chair felt like home, more than anything other than Rylothian tunnels ever had.

Her mother had hidden so much of the ugliness of those tunnels, had never let on that she thought her daughter should be living in the sunlight, in a traditional Twi'lek dwelling. Hera hadn't known that till she was much older. And her father and the rest of the community on Ryloth...she'd been nearly ready to leave Ryloth before they'd warned her of the dangers and harassment she'd face, as a Twi'lek woman, outside their community.

Despite it all, space, a pilot's seat, the stars streaking past in hyperspace, all this was home. Sinking into the cushioning of her pilot's seat on her ship, she felt like herself again. The unsettled gnawing in the small of her back, the twitch in her lekku, the bitter taste in her mouth, those were all waning.

She tuned the transmitter and sent an encoded update. Her eyelids were starting to droop when Chopper decoded a response with the coordinates for their next job.

Those would have to be programmed in once they got to the end of this jump in several hours.

"Chop, are you good to fly?"

"Buh-brrrp. Bup."

"I know you don't navigate. I'll be back before that's needed."

"Brrrip bah-bah-bah-brup."

"Good night to you too, Chop." A shower, even just a sonic, sounded like bliss.

***

Hera didn't look like she was sagging as much as she had the night before, and Kanan took a moment to appreciate the graceful fall of her lekku and was making a point not to imagine tracing circles along their markings.

He cleared his throat and held out a mug.

"Caf. Thank you." She sipped and hummed. "Beautiful caf."

Kanan sat down. "Have you slept at all?"

Hera nodded, still drinking. "Mmm. I got about five hours before I had to get up and change course. I got a tip on where we can find rides to take these people to safer destinations."

"That's good." Kanan sipped on his caf, unsure where or how to begin. Probably with the truth. Master Billaba's teachings flooded through his mind.

_The truth is rarely easy, but it is in truth that all our actions must be taken. Choices made in truth must also be made in objectivity. Attachments, emotions, these cloud choices and truth. When the choices we face are painful ones, attachments make them yet more painful. This is why we must keep our emotions apart from our actions and decisions._

He could no longer be a Jedi. There were no Jedi. Attachments were no longer forbidden, and he couldn't deny that he was attached, but those lifelong warnings rang loud. He had no model for how to be with the Force and with others.

Hera drank with him in silence. Once her mug was empty, she smiled at him. "Loth-cat got your tongue?"

Kanan stared into the dark liquid. He'd cared about Master Billaba, and it had almost gotten him killed. It had gotten her killed. Worrying about Hera had almost stranded her. "I was careless. I nearly ruined everything."

"And yet we've gotten these people to a way-point that can get them to Ryloth and other safer locations. They'll be sent home to their families, find new family if they need to, or be able to go into hiding."

"New family." Kanan hummed. "Hera? I need to tell you or, well, um…"

Hera raised an eyebrow at him. "Spit it out, will you?"

Kanan sighed. "Maybe I should just show you." He pulled out the holocron and focused on it. It rose, separated, and its familiar message played.

_"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi..."_

Hera stared at it. When Master Obi-Wan stopped speaking, she said, "My father told me of the Jedi, of their slaughter, of how they tried to prevent the war, tried to prevent the rise of the Empire. I've never seen a Jedi--not even in a holo--until now."

"Well, I'm not a Jedi," Kanan said. He'd never completed his trials. He'd left Master Billaba to die.

"Hey, you got us out of there. I took out the Zygerrian, but it was both of us who got us all off that ship." She smoothed his hair over his ear with the backs of her fingers, smiling as she followed his hairline with one fingertip. "Kanan, I trust you."

She'd never done or said that before, and Kanan recognized the gesture as lowering a barrier between them, giving him permission to cross over it, but he shook his head. "But it was your quick thinking that got us out of there. I was distracted because of my fear for you...my...emotional connection to you...and a guard got me pinned."

She smiled broadly, tilting her head. "But you got away. And we got out. If you're upset about it, you'll learn, and you'll do better next time."

"I will," he said earnestly. "I'm not going to lose you."

"Is that why you've kept your distance so long?"

He nodded, leaning into her hand.

"You know there are no guarantees, right?"

He knew all too well, so he nodded.

"So, if we want to be more than colleagues, we make the most of it." She brushed her thumb at his temple. "And we do that for as long as it lasts."

There was strength in this connection, he realized. More strength in connection than he had ever been allowed to ponder in the temple, even while the temple encouraged strong bonds between Master and Padawan. They might not be working in the Force together, but he and Hera were at least as much of a team as he and Master Billaba had been. "I'd like that."

Hera's smile was bewitching, and it sent tingles all the way through his toes--through the Force and his own body.

He took her hand in his and faced her. "Hera, I'm going to start training again."

"I think that's a good step for you."

"I won't let you down."

Hera squeezed his hand. "You'll always do your best. That's all I need."

"Aren't you worried--"

"That you'll lightsaber gouges into my hold? Yes." She waved a finger at him. "Don't do that. I like pressurization, oxygen, things like that."

"There may be long periods when I meditate."

"So, you'll do your chores around that. Nothing will really change, you'll just feel more confident. That'll certainly make you of more use to me."

"Then we'll see where that takes us."

She squeezed his hand again. "Yes, we will."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Roane, BlueMorpho, Wiliqueen, akamarykate, and Gondalsqueen for cheerleading, proofreading, brainstorming, and hand-holding.


End file.
